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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28087257">Collar</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/snasational/pseuds/snasational'>snasational</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Old Cherryberry stuff [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Undertale (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Flashbacks, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Prostitution, M/M, Underfell Asgore Dreemurr, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale), Underswap Sans (Undertale), world building</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:35:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,460</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28087257</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/snasational/pseuds/snasational</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Red sucks in a breath. “Nah. Marriage doesn’t happen anymore, but back in the day we did it like the humans did. Two rings and a ceremony, minus the whole preacher ordeal. The queen used to be the one officiating marriages.” </p><p>“So what are the collars for?”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>CherryBerry, Sans/Sans (Undertale)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Old Cherryberry stuff [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2065209</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>75</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Collar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>See kiddos, I'm capable of writing something that isn't filth! Spit this out in three hours, I had a lot of feelings. It's 3 am and I need to go to bed, lol. </p><p>Eventually, I'm going to write for the other pairings involved in this verse. They have their own stories too, right now I'm just hyperfixated on my babies.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Sometimes I hate being alive.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Red confesses in the darkness of their room. Blue stills from where he was fussing over his comforter, the sheet sliding around and sticking to his bones in an unpleasant manner. Red was content to just lay there and watch him fight a losing battle. After all, he insisted on having the layers even though Red thinks it’ll be easier to just toss the damn sheet away and sleep with only the blanket. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blue drops the fabric and looks at him with those big puppy dog eyes, shock and sadness prevalent at just the thought of Red not being alive anymore. Red can’t really lie, he loves the attention. After years of nothing but negativity, sometimes it’s nice to just be fawned over and coddled. He’d never admit that out loud, of course. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Red-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You make things better, though.” Red interrupts. “You make me happier than I’ve been in a long time. But...angel, I’m always going to be broken.” He’s waited nine months to tell Blue this. That there’s always going to be some part in him that’s fucked up and craves violence and misery because that’s what's normal for him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blue is quiet for a moment, contemplating on his next choice of words. And then he’s shifting underneath the covers and curling up to Red’s ribcage. Smart. Blue knows that Red responds well to physical affection.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s okay with me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My LV is never going to go down.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If I ever go back, I won’t be merciful.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t say when. He doesn’t want to think about the possibility. He hopes when never comes. They’ve already built two additions onto Classic’s house. Edge has a job as a personal sentry to Alphys. Red tutors kids and paints houses. They have a life here, stability that he never would have thought possible. Going back means Edge will be second in command again, and he’ll be a judge. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Judging sucks. The collar around his neck tingles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blue’s hand curls around a rib. Nothing sexual, and the pressure is grounding. “...I know. But I won’t let you go back. The Magnificent Sans will do anything to prevent you from leaving his side.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Red loves when Blue gets like this. All possessive and clingy. He’s pretty sure Blue never used to be like that, if the death stares Stretch sends behind his back are anything to go off of. He would be sorry for corrupting something innocent, but Blue was never all that innocent to begin with. Instead, he’s just a really good actor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He has an inkling that Puff is the same way, but letting Classic in on this sounds like a bad idea. He and Stretch probably take comfort in their brother’s naivety. And...well, as a Sans (or someone with the habits of a Sans), Red knows that there’s always going to be this desire to take care of something. To have something or someone completely dependent on them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But that’s more of Toriel’s thing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(Edge used to be so tiny. His little fists couldn’t even properly wrap around Red’s chubby phalanges. Red remembers cradling him for hours, simply admiring the fact that the life he held in his arms needed him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He also remembers the day Papyrus gained his first level, all teary eyed and covered in dust. He was eight years old and already tainted by the cruelly Asgore let them wallow in. Being the Judge’s brother gets you no special treatment. Red doesn’t know what he expected. But, contrary to what some may believe, Red is not cruel unless he has to be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not that his lessons of “Love, not LOVE” stuck for too long. Regardless, he held his brother as he cried about the unfairness of it all, and continued to do so well after he got into the Royal Guard. If Edge wanted to be held, Red would hold him. If Edge wanted to argue, Red could keep a fight going well into the morning hours. Edge is still his baby brother, no matter how mean he gets or how many levels he climbs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Red has judged the worst of the worst. He’s sentenced pedophiles and serial killers to death. He’s seen the crazed look of evil in a monster’s eyes. And he also knows that Edge is not one of them. There’s not an evil bone in that skeleton’s body. He raised him to be like that, LV be damned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still. He misses Edge being a babybones.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Noted.” Red finally responds after spending a few seconds muling over his thoughts. “We should make this official and get a pair of matching collars.” He jokes. In his world, it’s an awfully morbid one. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can feel eye lights staring up at him even with his sockets closed. “Is that how marriage works where you’re from?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Red sucks in a breath. “Nah. Marriage doesn’t happen anymore, but back in the day we did it like the humans did. Two rings and a ceremony, minus the whole preacher ordeal. The queen used to be the one officiating marriages.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>the collars for?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leave it to Blue to ask the most uncomfortable questions without making Red seethe. That’s his talent, he supposes. Being able to push buttons that would normally make Red explode with anger and suffering no consequence from it. Even Edge isn’t safe from his brother’s temper if the right strings are pulled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well. If tonight is the night to come clean, he ought to do it. “There are kinda like, multiple reasons why someone would be collared. We call it binding, ‘cause usually that’s what it is.” As he speaks, he traces his fingers over Blue’s spine. “Sometimes you have a debt you can’t pay off, so the collar lets people know that…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe mentioning prostitution isn’t the best way to start this explanation. “That they’re owned, and are free to use with a price. Those types of collars are usually gold or yellow, something about looking like coins? I dunno.” Blue has no outward reaction to this, so Red keeps on going. “That’s the most common one. Another reason is if you make a deal with someone that’s in a higher position than you. Those are usually black. It lets folks know that you’re off limits when it comes to deals until you can uphold your end of the bargain. Most of the time the collars will have a tag to let people know who you’re running errands for.“ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Running errands is also a complicated thing. He’ll just let Blue assume that it means picking up coffee and not dumping dust in Waterfall. “There’s a few more, but those are all the collars I’ve had to wear before becoming a judge.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yours is red though?” Blue observes. Red nods. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Red means ownership. Means that you’re someone’s bitch, basically. Nobody can kill you if you’re wearing red ‘cause it’s also the royal color. Nobody can claim another monster like that unless you’re royalty.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Red lets those words sink in for a moment. Blue tenses, and then untenses. Red is great at judging morality, but sucks at judging people. He has no idea what to make of this until Blue is speaking again. “Your que- </span>
  <em>
    <span>king</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he...he can’t have you anymore! I don’t know what the deal between you two was, but now it’s just you and I. So...</span>
  <em>
    <span>so,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Boney fingers tug at Red’s face until he’s looking at Blue directly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If his lover had a human soul, it would be red. “You don’t have to wear it. That collar is meaningless now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His soul aches. He wraps his hand around Blue’s wrist and nuzzles into his palm. “Red collars are a forever thing, angel. You can’t just fucking slip it off and be done with it. Taking it off means punishment.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blue frowns. “We’re not in your world.” He reminds, tone a tad bit agitated. “You don’t have to wear it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Red hums. He pulls Blue closer to him and rests his teeth atop of his cranium. They lay in silence after that, but Red can tell something is itching at him. “How did you get binded by him?” He finally asks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And because it’s Blue, Red closes his eyes and tells him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gaster breaks him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s not fair, how much a person that doesn’t exist can fuck him up. Then again, it’s Red’s fault he doesn’t exist in the first place. He doesn’t regret pushing him, nor does he regret packing a bag full of baby stuff and running off with Edge. But even after all that, the memory of that man clings unpleasantly to his bones. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What a sick, twisted, perverted monster. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finding money to support himself and his brother isn’t hard. He goes through collars, as deplorable as it is. Binding makes someone lesser than, but as long as it puts food in Edge’s stomach he’s okay with that. They’re surviving just fine with Red trading out collars like it’s a currency. Debt to one person, prostitution to another, it’s a cycle that’s never ending.</span>
  <span></span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Asgore happens. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Red didn’t mean to catch his attention, but beating the shit out of lowlives who want to fuck around with little kids certainly gets the job done. Asgore, despite all of his insanity, still holds a kindness to children. But Red looks at him and knows with certainty that despite this quirk, the king is as evil as they come. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To Red, there’s no difference between monster children and human children. A child is a child, and Asgore is more than willing to murder an innocent one. That little green soul couldn’t have been no older than eight, from what Red hears. He saw the pictures of the little girl, tiny and frail but with a smile so big it brightens even the shotty camera quality. The tabloids say that Asgore was kind about the killing, quick and painless.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sources also say that she begged for her life and sobbed so loud that it echoed in the palace walls hours afterwards. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Red can handle a lot of nasty shit. Child death isn’t one of those things. Edge isn’t even ten yet, and the thought of him receiving the same treatment as that little girl makes his magic thrum in a way that was normally reserved for Gaster. The injustice of it all is another reminder of the world he lives in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The king ends up giving Red a personal visit. And boy, opening the door up to see a man he really wanted to kill was quite the adrenaline rush. But when the king comes to your door, you let him in. Even if it’s a shitty one bedroom shack with holes in the roof that royalty has no place being. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even if he did have a place, Red wouldn’t want him there. He looks at this once benevolent ruler and sees all of those sins tallying up. It disgusts him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You made quite the mess out of those men.” Asgore says. Red doesn’t own a couch, or an armchair, so they’re left standing in the middle of his living room. Edge is napping in the bedroom, and Red can only pray that the child doesn’t wake up and alert Asgore to his presence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The king looks amused. Red wants to put a blaster to his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, I ain’t really got much of a tolerance for people that hurt kids.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looks Asgore in the eyes. The man holds his gaze, well aware of his sins. “You didn’t dust them”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to make them wish they were dusted.” He answers honestly. “Dusting would have been too nice for scum like them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This draws out a deep, baritone laugh from the king. “Such a sharp mind. Quick to enact divine punishment on those you’ve judged to be in the wrong. I have made a decision for you, Comic Sans.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t even fucking know me.” Red reminds, a bite to his tone that would warrant a public lashing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are correct, but from what I have seen that does not matter.” He reaches into his robe and pulls out a single item. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A red collar.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A command that can never be disobeyed, when given from royalty. Red would rather be dusted than work for a child murderer, and if it weren’t for Edge that’s exactly what he’d do. He trembles with the overwhelming force of his hatred. Asgore either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My judge.” The king begins. There’s something in his eyes that tells Red he isn’t all there, and that if he went knocking nobody would answer the door. “You will carry out sentences that will shape our people back into something more...civilized. I just know it. I have such a good feeling about you, Sans.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fuck off, he wants to tell him. He would never with Edge a thin wall away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The leather fits around his neck perfectly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blue is patient during his recalling of events that happened long ago. He’s kind about it, too. Gives sympathetic looks where they’re due but other than that he remains free of pity. Blue doesn’t want to know about his past to unveil that mysterious vibe he tends to give off, but rather so he can understand him and be closer to him on a deeper level. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve worn this damned thing for twelve years.” He explains, raw from telling him how his freedom was taken from him. “I’ve killed so many people wearing this fucker. Sentenced them to death, to be tortured, to be humiliated.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...Red, do you want me to be honest with you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Red blinks and nods. “Course I do.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think you’re hung up over skeletons that are never going to leave your closet.” And damn, if he doesn’t pack a punch. “The past is awful, and it’s really terrible that all of those things have happened to you, but...the past is the past. You and Edgy Papy are safe now, and you can plan for the future. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>better </span>
  </em>
  <span>future that doesn’t involve judging people and suffering.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He reckons it hurts so much to hear because he’s right. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know, angel. I know.” He mumbles. “Give me a little more time, alright?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blue sighs. It’s not malicious, so Red doesn’t take offense to this. “I love you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Love ya too, angel.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next morning, Edge stares at him with open shock. For the first time in twelve years, Red sits at the breakfast table with a bare neck. Next to him, Blue hums happily as he munches on pancakes that Puff whipped up. And for the first time in his life, Red feels at peace with the way things are turning out. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My headcanon is that Red is super nice to kids and is overprotective of them, and that he also lowkey be having baby fever lol. Add that to the list of things I want to write about it. I know there's a popular idea that Papyrus is the one who collared sans, but I thought it would be fun to give it a little twist. </p><p>Twitter is @ askeletonthot</p><p>Comments and Kudos are always appreciated!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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